Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75907 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I’ve already been on my feet most of the day, and they’re not happy with me, but the walk doesn’t take long, and when I’m safely in Tanner’s house, he turns to look at me and frowns.
“I didn’t hear your car.”
“That’s because I had a flat tire, and I had to abandon it.” I blow out a breath. “Can I please borrow your phone so I can call Wolfe and ask him to tow it?”
“How did you get home?”
“I walked.”
His eyes narrow now, and he leans closer, as if he didn’t hear me. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I walked, Tanner. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just need to have my car towed.”
“No, it’s not fine, Sarah. We agreed that you wouldn’t be alone until we figure out who’s been breaking into your place.”
“What was I supposed to do, wait in my car until someone came to find me? It was less than a mile, and it’s not dark yet. I’m fine.”
“We’re fixing your phone situation first thing tomorrow morning.”
“I have to work.”
“You need a phone,” he counters. His voice is calm, but his eyes are not. “This is a safety issue now. So, we’ll go to Newport and figure it out tomorrow.”
“I don’t remember you being this bossy and controlling when I was in high school.”
He doesn’t answer me. With his eyes pinned to mine, he taps his phone and presses it to his ear. “Hey, Wolfe. Sarah had a flat tire and needs a tow. Do you have a company you use for that? Great. Yeah, she’s home now, but the car is parked on the side of the road. Where is it?” he asks me.
“On the corner of Seaside Lane, not too far from Huckleberry Delight.”
Tanner relays the information. “Great. Thank you. Just let me know how much it is. Talk to you later.”
He ends the call, and I just stand here and stare at him.
“I should have been the one to do that. It’s my car.”
Tanner sits on the couch and leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees.
“I’m so angry right now,” he begins, his voice a study in controlled fury, “you might want to watch yourself.”
“What, exactly, are you angry about, Tanner? I couldn’t just sit in my car. I’d rather walk home than back to Gordy’s.”
“Something could happen to you.” He swallows hard, and his jaw tightens. “And that’s not acceptable.”
I straddle his lap and frame his face in my hands. “I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Flat tires just happen, you know? Maybe I drove over a nail, or maybe the tire just needs to be replaced. It doesn’t mean that someone booby-trapped it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You’re becoming paranoid,” I inform him as I lean in to brush his lips softly with my own. “I’m okay. I promise.”
His arms loop around me now, almost desperately, and he hugs me close, burying his face in my breasts and holding on tightly.
“There have been too many shitty things happening lately,” he says at last. “Just humor me and take the morning off so we can handle your phone.”
“Done.”
His head comes up in surprise. “That was too easy.”
“No, I get it. If the roles were reversed, I’d be freaking out, too. We’ll get it fixed, and if something happens to my car again, I’ll wait there, with the doors locked, while I call for help.”
“Thank you.” Some of the tension melts away as he hugs me again. “Now, let’s get you naked.”
“Naked?” I giggle when he reaches under my shirt and tugs it up and over my head.
“I have some adrenaline to work off.”
His hands turn me into goo as he works me over, undressing and exposing me, kissing and teasing me, and when he finally lays me down on the couch and covers me, pressing inside, I think I might go blind from the pleasure of it.
“Holy shit,” I mutter when we’re a pile of sweaty, panting flesh. “I should get a flat tire more often.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You know, one of the most annoying things about living in Huckleberry Bay is that it’s so far from everything,” I say the next morning as we drive through Newport to go to the cell phone store. “There aren’t many easy errands we can run.”
“It’s a trade-off, that’s for sure.” He finds the store and pulls into the parking lot, cutting the engine.
“Let’s get this handled,” I say and walk in ahead of him. It’s early enough in the day that there’s no one waiting ahead of us.
“How can I help you?” A man with the name Justin on his lapel greets us.
“I’m having phone issues.” I explain about not having service, and Justin heads straight for the computer to bring up my account. “Do I just need to replace the phone?”
“You canceled your service with us last week,” he says with a scowl.